


Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau

by a_lanart



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_lanart/pseuds/a_lanart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack discovers it's much more fun to join in with Welsh customs rather than just observe them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau

Title: Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau  
Author: A Lanart  
Fandom: Torchwood  
Pairing: Torchwood Team, Rhys &amp; Andy friendship (vague blink-and-you'll-miss-it Jack/Ianto)  
Rating: PG-13 for Owen's potty mouth  
Warnings/Spoilers: none  
Disclaimer: Anything you might recognise is not mine, including the Welsh National Anthem.

~*~

Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau

*

Jack emerged from his office after a very trying conference call with UNIT to what appeared to be a completely deserted Hub. The silence was eerie and he wouldn't admit to how relieved he was when he heard clanking noises emanating from the autopsy bay, accompanied by Owen's swearing. He wandered in that direction and leaned on the rail to watch Owen sort out his instrument trays.

"Where is everybody?" Jack asked.

"Saturday afternoon, Jack. They've gone the pub."

"Without you?"

Owen glared at him. "I felt it was safer if I didn't."

"Safer? Since when has going to the pub with the others been dangerous? Apart from the time when that metenixi ship crashed through the roof and..." Jack trailed off when Owen sighed and rolled his eyes theatrically in what appeared to be a surprisingly good impression of Ianto.

"They're meeting up with Rhys, Andy Davidson and a few other friends."

"Friends? But Rhys and Andy don't..."

"Oh don't tell me you've forgotten?! Lived in the bloody city for fuck knows how long with 2 sodding Welsh employees, not to mention the fact that you're..."

"Owen," Jack growled, "Is there a point to this?"

"On this day of all days, all Welshmen are brothers," said Owen, "And sisters," he added remembering Gwen. "Hatchets buried and all that bollocks."

"You're still not making sense, Owen," Jack said. Owen put down the instrument tray and folded his arms, his expression one of bored patronisation.

"It's the last game of the Six Nations season."

"Six Nations?"

"Rugby, Jack. You know that game played with a funny shaped ball where 30 grown men beat the crap out of each other for a chance to kick it over a pole?"

"Oh yeah, I forgot." Jack's smile lit his face as he realised there was a perfectly good reason for his team to have absconded. "So they've gone to watch the rugby then?"

"Got it in one." Owen turned back to his instruments.

"So why didn't you go with them?"

"Wales are playing England, for the title. If you hadn't noticed, Jack, I'm English. And southern, which apparently makes it worse."

"Ah. And Tosh is 'safe' because she isn't English."

"You know, sometimes your perceptiveness astounds me."

"In that case, I'll see you later."

"What! Where are *you* going?"

"The pub. Not English, remember. And I can't think of a better opportunity to stare at a guy's ass without being arrested."

"God give me strength..."

~*~

With the aid of a somewhat garbled text from Ianto, Jack found his way to the pub without mishap. It was jam-packed so tight there was barely standing room, a sea of red from wall to wall. The doorman wasn't going to let him in until a slightly dishevelled looking Andy Davidson appeared and clapped the man on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, mate. He's with us," he said, waving vaguely at one corner of the pub. Jack couldn't make out anyone clearly, but he heard Gwen's squeal loud and clear. Jack smiled; this could be an experience to remember.

"Go on then, but don't you dare call your lot in and say we're overcrowded or you'll be banned for life. All of you."

"I won't," Andy said pleasantly, before steering Jack in the direction he'd indicated. They were ensconced in a corner, with a good view of the TV screen. Rhys spotted them first and welcomed Jack with a yell,

"Look what the cat's dragged in! Where did you find him, Andy?"

"I think he was trying to chat up the bouncer," Andy commented with a sly grin and a wink.

"Oh, that's all right then. Drink, Jack?" Rhys thrust a bottle of beer in his direction which Jack had to take or risk Gwen ending up with it over her head. He indicated his thanks and sidled closer to Ianto and Tosh, who were trying to suppress almost identical grins.

"What?" Jack asked. Tosh reached out and patted his hand.

"I think you're very courageous," she said.

"Courageous? Why?"

"For braving a pub full of patriotic Welsh rugby fans when you know nothing about the game," Ianto clarified.

"But Tosh doesn't..." Jack was interrupted by a friendly punch to his arm from Gwen.

"We've been giving her lessons, see. Haven't we Ianto?"

"Oh indubitably. And Tosh being Tosh, she's a fast learner." Ianto then turned away, and Tosh leaned closer.

"It's also a good excuse to ogle cute men without being arrested," she said in Jack's ear. He burst out laughing.

"That's what I said to Owen," he replied, to be rewarded with a giggle from Tosh, only to be shushed by Andy and Rhys in unison. Jack raised a questioning eyebrow at Ianto, who pointed at the screen. It seemed they were just getting round to announcing the teams and an expectant hush fell over the pub, something Jack found really strange considering how many people were in there. What was most amusing was the way Andy and Rhys were clutching on to each other, only to punch the air and yell 'Yes!!!' when one particular player was announced, Gwen's shriek down his ear indicated that she too was pleased with the selection.

"Popular?" He mouthed at Tosh, the noise levels having risen to a level that made it difficult to talk.

"Local boy," she replied as if that explained everything. It probably did if you were from Cardiff and a rugby fan. The noise settled somewhat until half the pub, including Gwen, Ianto Rhys and Andy started singing what Jack presumed was the national anthem – in Welsh. He shook his head, chuckling to himself, and Tosh poked him in the side. Jack frowned at her, and settled in for some serious people watching.

~*~

What Jack hadn't expected was to get so engrossed in the game. During the first half Tosh helpfully yelled explanations into his ear while the others got rather rowdy. Come the second half, Jack was on his feet with the rest of them, Gwen and Tosh perched precariously on the table in front of him while he and Ianto held onto them to stop them falling off whenever a Welsh touchdown - a *try* he corrected himself mentally - was scored. Rhys and Andy were far too busy clinging onto each other and screaming imprecations at the England players, the referee and anyone else they didn't think was pulling their weight to pay attention to the girls, for which Jack was rather glad, considering the amount of beer he'd seen getting washed down their throats. The game was very closely contended and emotions were running near boiling point, but Jack was still somewhat surprised when after one particularly hard tackle from a Welsh player Ianto screeched,

"Take that, you filthy Sais bastard!" The cry was echoed by their table mates, including Tosh, and Jack realised that Owen had actually been telling the literal truth about his possible safety and not exaggerating one iota. He found himself keeping his fingers crossed that the Welsh team would win, as he knew the mood of the crowd could potentially turn ugly if the result didn't go in Wales' favour. Not that he was particularly worried about his own personal safety and he was sure Rhys could look after himself. Plus he was aware that Gwen and Andy had probably cut their teeth on situations like this back when they were partners on the beat. His only concern was for Tosh, but he could tell that despite the screeching, Ianto was in full-on protective mode toward her, even though he was not exactly sober himself, which Jack found rather... appealing.

With only a few minutes to go the scores were level, but even on the TV you could tell the Welsh team were giving their all, as were their supporters both in the stadium and in the pub. There wasn't a space to be seen on the floor, tables and chairs were being used to stand on, and Jack had never heard so many people in a pub managing to sing vaguely in tune at the same time; it was a hair raising experience. Then one of the Welsh team managed to get the ball, and ran, and ran, and ran, seeming to brush off all the attempted tackles from the English as if he were the God of Rugby. As the shouts and screams of encouragement rose to a near painful crescendo, Jack realised that the player was Tosh's 'local boy' and he felt the need to shout and scream along with everyone else he was so caught up in the moment. If Jack had thought the place was noisy before, the eruption of sound that greeted the sight of the ball being firmly planted on the ground behind the English line completely disabused him of that notion. Throats were screamed raw, tears were pouring down people's faces in joy, and Rhys was pounding Andy on the back and hugging him like he was his long lost brother. Tosh and Gwen were dancing on the table and Ianto had given up all pretence of trying to hold onto them for safety's sake and was dancing round the table hugging pretty much everyone, though Jack got lucky and received a kiss. The rest of the evening passed in a delightful but noisy blur that included Rhys and Andy attempting to teach Jack a collection of Rugby songs, in Welsh no less, which in turn seemed to elicit a phenomenal amount of giggling from Gwen and Tosh especially when Ianto suggested progressively filthier alternatives to the words that eventually had them all laughing until they were in tears.

When Jack left the pub he was barely able to talk he was so hoarse, but he felt happier than he had done in a while. Gwen and Tosh were giggling as they hung onto Ianto who was still singing softly, though it was little more than a whisper now. Jack slung an arm companionably round Rhys and Andy's shoulders, and grinned.

"Next time," he croaked, "I want to wear a red shirt." Rhys' resulting chuckle also sounded creaky to say the least, his throat had to be sore from all the yelling.

"We'll make a proper Welshman of you yet," he said. "Won't we, Andy?"

"Or we'll die trying!" Andy agreed. Jack found himself relishing the prospect; it was a long time since he'd felt so much part of the city he chose to protect as he did that night and as he stumbled towards the Plass and home between his 2 unlikely friends he quietly joined his voice with Ianto's in song.

"Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi..."


End file.
